


Hospitality: Or, Why Joining Fake AH Crew Was The Best Worst Idea We Ever Had

by firebirdfauchelevant



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, F/M, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-24 03:33:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6140275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firebirdfauchelevant/pseuds/firebirdfauchelevant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phoenixx, in all the movement, had shrunk next to Jack. His hand clung to her sleeve, tugging slightly. Jack, with a knowing expression, turned to Geoff. “Maybe she should come with us.”</p><p>It was spoken softly, but everybody in the room had heard it.</p><p>Before Geoff could answer, Holly had spoken up. “Absolutely not.”</p><p>The air was so tense that goosebumps became visible on all of Holly’s exposed skin. It didn't help, either, that it was the middle of winter and the room was freezing. She readjusted her footing, teetering in her high heels, ready to push her way through the group, but Phoenixx’s small voice drew her out of it.</p><p>“Please. It’d be just one night of hospitality.”</p><p> </p><p>Phoenixx is a member of the Fake AH Crew; their head techie, their eyes and ears in Los Santos. After a job almost gone wrong, he finds Holly, the prostitute with soft curls and hard eyes who just saved his life. Despite the efforts of Geoff Ramsey and his crew, Burnie Burns and his men were pushing with full force, and it was time to push back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was meant to be a small job.

In The Achievement Hotel, Los Santos’ tallest and shiniest building, a young man sat in a small suite behind a laptop screen, working feverishly. He was not in his own room, nor at his own laptop. He did not have the time to be guilty as he ripped as much information from the hard drive as he could.

In hindsight, it would have been easier to take the whole laptop.

Phoenixx sat on the edge of his seat, perched as if he was ready to fly off as soon as he could. He never liked being on the field; he was better being back at the hideout, watching security cameras and speaking through headsets, but nobody else was able to decode the laptop and grab the necessary files, and so he’d been forced onto the job.

As a member the Fake AH Crew, he worked under the watchful eyes of Geoff Ramsey, who had the rest of his main crew littered around the hotel on lookout. Phoenixx had been accompanied by one of the smaller members of the crew and longtime friend Ray, but he had gone to inspect a suspicious noise with the promise of returning as quickly as he could.

He typed furiously, hoping to God that he could make it out in time. He heard two sets of footsteps outside, but the giggle that accompanied them indicated the two were not a threat; he worked faster, despite it being a false alarm.

The screen lit up the dark room and as files transferred themselves onto Phoenixx’s own hard drive, and it occurred to him that the boss must not share this room with any of his crew due to its size. It was funny to him, considering that Geoff often slept beside Jack, his right hand man. A detached boss was never truly one you could trust.

The files had transferred about seventy per cent of the way when heavy, thudding footsteps caught Phoenixx’s attention; they were not the same footsteps as before, and they seemed to calmly step towards the room. But Phoenixx, in his panic upon realising he had nowhere to hide and little time to improvise, did not notice the footsteps cease before picking up in speed. The door, intricately designed with a golden pattern, was kicked harshly from its hinges, and behind it stood a tall and lanky man, who, in the faint light from the hallway, found Phoenixx almost immediately. 

A door down the corridor swung open and one person ran for the elevator, but it went unnoticed. The man, young as he was, was visibly hardened by his profession, and would have no trouble in figuring out why the smaller man was in his room. His hand reached out and flicked on the main light, startling Phoenixx by the sudden change. A gun sat comfortably in the man’s hand, and without a single word he aimed it at the younger man before him.

It seemed he didn’t care why he was there, but whatever information he had gathered would not be leaving this hotel room.

Phoenixx shut his eyes tight; it was inevitable, in this line of work, that you accept your death can come at any moment. But a barrel of a gun between your eyes is still frightening.

When the click of the trigger and the bang of the bullet didn’t come, he couldn’t resist a quick look — the stubbled man was on the floor now, pinned beneath a young woman. Her knee dug into his neck, cutting off his ability to breathe comfortably, and the heel of her stiletto was pressed quite closely to his more sensitive areas. She whipped the gun from his hands in his weak moment and forced it into his mouth, causing him to choke and struggle to breathe further.

After making sure the man beneath her was not going anywhere, she turned to the young man before her. He trembled, clearly unsure of the newcomer. She nodded and smiled at him as kindly as she could.

“My name’s Holly. I’m not going to hurt you. Take what you need and go. You’re safe, yeah? You can trust me.”

Four steps of footsteps, now, sprinted towards the room. The men called for their youngest, and Phoenixx stood sharply, too quickly, almost toppling over himself, before rushing to the four men who had run in. The first was Ray, who had returned from wherever he had gone (he was correct to have assumed something, but he had fallen for the bait when he went off to investigate) and looked incredibly guilty; beside him, Geoff Ramsey, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips a hard frown; to his left, the tall redhead Jack Patillo, her eyes wide with shock; and at the back of the crowd was their wildcard Michael Jones. Holly had made eye contact with the moustached man first. She looked away, trying to dull the awkward tension between the two.

“You want him dead?”

Geoff shook his head. “Michael, knock him out. We’ll get Ryan to take him back.”

As Michael approached, his eyes squinted behind his lenses, she immediately felt self-conscious. She instantly became aware of what she was wearing, which was not much; the man that had run towards the elevator had been her client, and she had been left in nothing but the pastel lingerie and high heels she’d worn for the job. She carefully peeled herself away from the frightened man before dropping the gun and curling her arms around herself, as if that helped at all. Michael struck out, hitting him once across the head with the butt of his own gun, and pressed a finger to his ear, muttering to somebody about collecting the man — apparently his name was Dawson.

Phoenixx, in all the movement, had shrunk next to Jack. His hand clung to her sleeve, tugging slightly. Jack, with a knowing expression, turned to Geoff. “Maybe she should come with us.”

It was spoken softly, but everybody in the room had heard it.

Before Geoff could answer, Holly had spoken up. “Absolutely not.”

The air was so tense that goosebumps became visible on all of Holly’s exposed skin. It didn't help, either, that it was the middle of winter and the room was freezing. She readjusted her footing, teetering in her high heels, ready to push her way through the group, but Phoenixx’s small voice drew her out of it.

“Please. It’d be just one night of hospitality.”

Her gaze dropped, but she really had no choice when Phoenixx’s red letterman jacket was draped around her shoulders, in an effort to reserve her dignity, to keep her warm. She breathed out heavily, but nodded. 

And so, in three cars, they sped off, with two others and Dawson behind them.

* * *

 They arrived at a large house far out into the hills and fields, about two hours outside of the hustle of central Los Santos. It seemed neat, tidy, and very ordinary. As they all trailed into the house, one by one, Holly considered, for the briefest of seconds, to make a run for it, but decided against it almost immediately, as when she’d stepped inside the house it had been warm and homely, and she had missed such a feeling.

She caught the attention of Phoenixx, and stepped towards him nervously.

“Hey, um. So where am I sleeping?”

Phoenixx hummed thoughtfully. He was about to offer his own room, when the lanky Brit Gavin Free had joined them. 

“Hello, love. Who’s the bird?”    

Phoenixx smiled, hoping the blush on his cheeks was not evident. “She helped us out a bit tonight. A lot, actually, so don’t be an ass.”

He had introduced himself, asked her if she’d wanted anything, and when she’d said a soft ‘no thank you’ he’d headed upstairs to bed, winking at Phoenixx on his way passed them.

More people introduced themselves (all but one, according to Geoff), but Holly didn’t take much in. She curled up on the couch when they’d all gone to bed, her shoes slipped off and Phoenixx’s jacket still wrapped around her. It worked as a blanket, but not too effectively. Only when a few hours had gone by and Phoenixx had woken up to get some water had she gained an actual blanket. Phoenixx laid it over the young woman carefully, who in her sleep seemed far softer, smaller.

He sighed gently, frowning a little. Hopefully she’d warm up to them. But for now, the lull of Gavin’s bed was too much for him. It would be something they would deal with in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Holly sat up waiting that night. 

At about three o'clock, she realised nobody was coming. Unsure how to feel, she finally decided to lie down and attempt to sleep. She never heard Phoenixx come in later in the night, nor did she feel the blanket drape over her. But, when she woke up, she had assumed she was the first to do so.

She sat up, her spine creaking as she moved sluggishly. The blanket fell to her waist, and blinking around, she realised where she was. It had taken a moment for her to remember where she was; she never normally stayed the night at a client's house, it was somewhat unprofessional. But she had not slept with any of them, and so it was even weirder to her. Why was she there? 

Standing, Holly folded the blanket neatly and placed it on the arm of the chair. Picking up her shoes, she made her way for the front door, not putting them on as to not wake up the people in the house with the clacking of her heels against the marble floor. Just as she reached the door, a voice stopped her.

"Hey. Where the fuck are you goin'?"

Turning, startled, she saw a sleep dishevelled Michael, eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion. 

She stuttered over her words, unsure how to answer. "Well, um. I wasn't really sure why... I didn't want to overstay my welcome."

He scoffed. "If Geoff didn't want you to stay, do you think you'd be here?"

She avoided his gaze. _Ah. Thought so._

Sighing, she followed Michael into the house, leaving her shoes at the door, next to the collection of shoes that had already gathered there.

Michael watched her carefully. Her shoulders had slumped, her arms wrapped around herself. He wondered what was wrong, but didn't feel compelled to ask. He shoved some toast into the toaster, and shoved the bag in her direction, attempting to ask if she'd wanted any. Holly shook her head but sat at the bench in the seat closest to the wall, as far away from him (and anybody else that may enter) as possible without seeming rude. Of course, Michael had noticed, but he didn't say anything.

Jack was the next to wake up. She was already dressed and ready for the day, as opposed to Michael who was still in his pyjamas. She smiled warmly, offering a chirpy good morning and shoving Michael out of the way so she could make actual breakfast, rather than just inhaling toast.

 "How'd you sleep?"

 Holly raised her eyebrows after a moment. Michael hadn't replied, and when she looked up, she realised it was directed at her. "Oh, uh fine, I guess. As well as you can sleep on a couch."

 She chuckled from behind the fridge door. She pulled out eggs and bacon, smiling brightly. "Good to know you're feeling alright."

 They all started filing into the room shortly after that. Geoff moved over to Jack, kissing her forehead, before leaning against the bench. For the first time, he made eye contact with Holly. 

 "Ramsey."

 "Hey, kid."

 Geoff stiffened, and Holly raised her eyebrows, but neither shifted. The tension had shifted. Neither were going to back down.

 Jack and Michael noticed, but it was Michael who spoke first.

 "You two know each other?"

 Geoff answered. "Yeah."

 "How?"

 Holly cleared her throat. "Through work. My work."

 Michael muttered an expletive and Jack huffed softly. It was going to be interesting.

* * *

Gavin wanted it noted in the record that it was not his idea to get up, and considered Phoenixx's insistence of his waking up as borderline abuse.

They'd slept in the longest, and although their odd relationship was not unknown, it was still going to be far too obvious for Phoenixx's liking. Relationships were difficult to maintain in this job, and although he felt something for Gavin - whatever it was, it was strong - he was worried about it being too exposed about it. Of course the crew wouldn't care, but other crews, threatening ones, would relish that information.

Slowly, he peeled Gavin out of bed. He groaned, but followed Phoenixx down the stairs anyway. The smell of eggs and bacon perked him up and encouraged him to run into the kitchen. Ray and Michael had been known to split his share of breakfast, and he wasn't going to let that happen on egg and bacon day.

The kitchen was full of people, bustling with action and laughter. Michael, Geoff, and Jack all laughing at some remark Ray had made. Holly sat off to herself on the couch she had slept on, and was shortly joined by Ray, who switched on the television and the XBox to play a game. She frowned, unsure of what he was doing. Phoenixx watched Ray explain things to her as he played, and smiled. It was nice to see her less closed off.

Gavin jumped on top of Michael, who yelled but smiled nonetheless. It was very domestic, but not out of place. This was how most mornings were after a job that went right. Well, mostly right, Phoenixx noted, rubbing where the gun had been pressed into his head.

"Morning, Phoenixx. You holding up after yesterday?" Geoff had asked, knowing fully well that Gavin had done most of the comforting the night previous, but still felt a stir of paternal compassion and a need to know.

Phoenixx smiled, slapping Geoff lightly on the arm. "I'm fine, _dad_. Relax."

Geoff laughed and, in retaliation, threw the crusts of his toast at the younger man.

* * *

 

The day passed relatively quietly, for a while.

Geoff had set up a room for Holly; it was smaller than the other bedrooms, usually used for the odd guest when one visited. She sat on the bed, running her hand over the bedsheets carefully. She'd been oddly quiet when Geoff had offered her a room, and although she didn't enjoy sleeping on the couch, she knew that a bed came with implications. 

“Geoff?"

"Yeah?"

Holly curled in on herself, looking far smaller than she had the night before. Phoenixx's jacket and the tracksuit pants Michael had leant her engulfed her small frame, and with her makeup removed and her hair tied up, she seemed much younger, far frailer than she had seemed last night. With the gun in her hand and the lingerie being the only thing that had covered her, she had seemed far tougher, like something out of a movie. But now, she seemed very unsure, as if she was walking on eggshells.

"Why am I here?"

"You did us a favour. I know where you live, you know, and it's shitty as dicks."

She stared at him, face unmoving. He shifted a little; she wasn't a threat, no, but there was something so surprisingly innocent about her now that induced guilt. She spoke, voice wavering.

"Am I here to work?"

He sighed. He'd been worried this would come up. He'd told her no, his voice soft, knowing she would be suspicious, and had promised that he would make sure the crew that. 

Holly nodded carefully.

They had decided Holly was to stay until the shock of last night had subsided, and pay her handsomely for what she had done for Phoenixx, so she would not have to work for a while. It was surprising to her that this crew of vicious criminals were so familial and dedicated to each other. She wondered what that was like.

Geoff, in his oddly paternal nature, huffed quietly. He knew this was going to be awkward between them; he had once been a customer of hers, and in her industry, a name and a paycheque as large as Geoff Ramsey’s was few and far between. But, despite her spending such a short time in their house (when questioned why she was allowed in their actual house, Geoff had confessed that she had been there before, stepping foot in the house before both Ray and Ryan, whom she had yet to meet), he was determined to make her as comfortable as he could.

Maybe it was the novelty of having a young woman in the house. In his quieter, private moments, he’d imagined himself a father to a daughter.

But he couldn’t express this feeling in time before Michael, eyes concerned and voice hard, burst into the room. 

“Geoff. We got a message.”

The older man raised his eyebrows, waiting for Michael to elaborate. The lad huffed.

“Burns.”

The leader stood and rushed out. Michael watched Holly for a moment, wide-eyed and confused. He sighed, and shut the door behind him.

* * *

Six men and one woman gathered around a table in a small, closed off, distant room. The air in the room was thick, cold, suffocating. The tension was palpable. 

Burns’ message had been clear, simple: They knew that Fake AH had Dawson, and wanted him back. Unfortunately, the masked man in the corner of the room had wrung him dry of information, and killed him after hours and hours of pestering and fake threats.

They were in trouble, no doubt.

Ryan offered his excuse for killing Dawson, but Geoff didn’t mind; he knew Ryan wouldn’t have killed Burnie’s associate if it wasn’t necessary. Geoff knew there was a fight in the future, he could feel it, he always could.

Jack spoke first. “So what do we do?”

There were multiple offers. Michael suggested they bash his brains in. Jack, more passively, suggested they talk it out. Hours and hours past, and they came no closer to a conclusion. 

Ryan’s hand thumping on the table drew their attention to him. His mask, that had been off for hours now, was tightly secured around his face, a slither of light cut across his cheeks. Turning, everyone saw their guest in the doorway. She did not seem apologetic for eavesdropping; instead, she was leaning against the doorframe, watching all the faces in the room carefully.

“Burnie relies on his right hand men a great lot.”

“How do you know?” Ray asked, eyebrows raised.

She gestured to herself, leaving her indication to her body as answer enough. He blushed and hid behind Michael, who seemed agitated by her response. She sighed.

“I know a few of them. Hullum. Sorola. Heyman, especially. My most frequent, uh, customer, if you want to put it that way.”

Phoenixx frowned. “You know anything about them?”

She nodded. “Sure. Not everything is sex, you know, it’s company. Intimacy. Something reminiscent of a real relationship.”

Geoff looked away from her, grasping Jack’s hand; Michael and Phoenixx frowned, a little surprised at her sad tone of voice; Ryan huffed under his mask.

“We can’t use you.”

“You’ve had no trouble in the past, Haywood. Thanks for the tip, by the way.” Holly had very quickly turned from soft to biting in a matter of seconds. In that moment, she was just as hard pressed as she was the night previous. “Besides, I’m not suggesting that. I’m just saying, you know, that there’s a lot of information that I’m happy to give you.”

Gavin squawked. “Wot? You mean you’ve buggered Ryan too?”

Ryan hushed him, but even behind the mask his awkwardness was noticeable. 

It wasn’t often that Holly was ashamed of her profession, but when she realised that these men were embarrassed to admit that they’d known her. She faltered, but pressed on.

“The information is yours, if you want it.”

Geoff huffed. “You can stay here for the time being, then.”

Phoenixx grinned at Holly, trying to lift her spirits. Holly pressed her lips together in response, but didn’t say anything. It was quiet, and she shuffled. She sighed.

“It’s getting on to four in the morning. You should all get some rest soon.”

And with that, her softly spoken concern and the small glimpse of who she may be, she turned on her heel, the hem of Michael’s tracksuit pants muffling her steps as she left. Geoff sighed, but stood slowly. Holly, in all of her sleepy glory, had been right. They could not work so low on sleep.

“We’ll discuss everything in the morning. Get your asses to bed.”

So they disappeared to their own bedrooms, too tired to argue, too nervous to protest. They all mulled over their guest’s words, their boss’ actions, and their own personal reactions. 

This was going to be arduous. 


End file.
